


Our Father's Sons

by Titch360



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 07:39:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13119156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titch360/pseuds/Titch360
Summary: What is left after everything is taken away?  You can either move on or get dragged down.  Dick moved on, but that doesn't mean he doesn't get dragged down.





	Our Father's Sons

Our Father’s Sons

 

Damian growled audibly as he slammed the screen of his laptop closed.  He pushed himself away from his desk violently, nearly tipping his desk chair in the process, and did his best not to scream out his frustrations.

A soft sigh sounded from behind the teen, “Come on, Damian, it isn’t that bad.”

Damian turned to face Tim, who sat on his bed, watching him.  “I’m no good with words.  I can solve any mathematical equation you put in front of me.  I can design a frickin’ sky scraper.  I can plan comprehensive battle strategy.  I can’t write!”

Tim gave a small smile, “It’s just a poem, Damian.  You don’t have to write the next War and Peace, you just need to string together a few narrative lines in some sort of meter.”

“I don’t even see why I have to do this,” the teen grumbled.

Tim’s smile grew as he rose from the bed and approached his brother.  “It’s a required general education class, Damian.  I told you all along that college is different than high school.”  Tim opened Damian’s laptop and turned the youth to face the screen again.  Exiting back to the desktop, Tim said, “You are thinking too hard about this.  You already have your inspiration, you just need to use it.”

Damian sighed, “What inspiration?  I told you, I’m not good at this.  I’m not creative.”

“I beg to differ, and there are a half dozen sketchbooks in this room that agree with me.”  Tim pointed to the screen, and the picture of Robin that served as Damian’s desktop image, “There’s your inspiration.  Now, use your inspiration.”

Damian stared at the picture for half a minute, then looked up at Tim, “You’re right.  I should ask Robin to write the poem for me.”

Tim rolled his eyes, “No.  Write what you would say to Robin.”

Damian’s eyes widened, “I can’t write _that_.  It’s too personal.”

“You want to pass your class, right?”

“Yeah,” Damian grumbled.

Tim brought the word processing program back onto the screen, “Write it out, and then edit it.  Don’t use real names or personal descriptions.  Focus on your emotions; I know you have them.  Write how Robin makes you feel.”

Damian sighed, “That’s still too personal.”

Tim stood behind Damian and rested his hands on the boy’s shoulders.  “Close your eyes.  You and Robin are alone.  You two have spent a perfect day together, but now, she’s going home.  You have ten minutes to express to her how much you love her, how she makes you feel, before she gets on a plane.  I know you two speak more with actions, but this time it has to be words.  There are no wrong answers here.  That paper is Robin.  Now, let her know what’s running through your mind.”

Neither male moved for a minute, until Damian reached out hesitantly and started to type.  After some tentative pecks, Damian let a stream of consciousness flow onto the page.  Tim didn’t read what his younger brother was putting forth, he just squeezed Damian’s shoulders supportively before heading for the door.

As Tim stepped into the hall, he heard Damian say softly, “Thanks, Tim.”

Tim was surprised to find Jason leaning against the wall outside of Damian’s open bedroom door.  Jason opened his mouth to speak, but Tim shook his head and walked across the hall to his bedroom.

Jason followed him into the space and said, “You’re spending a lot of time with the squirt lately.  Surely the super-brain can’t need that much help.”

Tim gave a small smile, “He probably doesn’t need any help.  What he actually needs, even though he’ll never admit it, is support.  This is probably the first time he’s been challenged by schoolwork since before he came to live with us.  Also, he still feels guilty about what Talia did to us, and it makes him feel better that I’m not holding it against him, I think.  With Bruce out of town on his business trip for a couple more days, and Dick…not acting like himself lately, Damian needs someone to pay attention to him.  I really don’t mind doing that.  Besides, I’m the only one here who actually graduated from college.  He can’t exactly ask you for help with how to navigate Gotham University’s online system.”

Jason shook his head, “You just have to rub it in, don’t you.”

An approaching pounding caught the attention of the brothers, and they headed to the door to see what was happening.  Sticking their heads into the hallway, they saw that the noise had caught Damian’s attention as well.  Dick stomped his way up the stairs, staring at the floor as he walked.  Only when he stopped to open his bedroom door did he notice his brothers staring at him.  Dick opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again with a sigh, his shoulders drooping, and locked himself in his bedroom.

Damian stepped into the hall as Dick’s door clicked locked, then turned to look at Tim and Jason.  Damian seemed just as lost for words as Dick did.

Damian opened his mouth, but Tim spoke first, “It’s okay, Damian.  He needs his space right now; we should just give it to him.  You didn’t do anything wrong.  He’s not mad at you.  Why don’t you finish your homework, and we can figure this out later.”

Damian sighed and nodded, his shoulders drooping in much the same way Dick’s had a minute ago, as he returned to his bedroom slowly.

Jason sighed roughly next to Tim, “You seem to have figured out one brother.  You want to try for another?”

Tim matched the sigh, “You know what’s bothering him just as much as I do.”

Jason nodded slowly, “Yeah, but the anniversary has never bothered him like this before.  He’ll get sad, then he gets over it.  He’s never cut himself off from people before.”

Tim looked at a loss, “I wish Bruce were here; he’d know what to do.”

Jason looked down, “Well, he isn’t.  So, it’s up to us.  Maybe if we all tag team him, we can get through to him?”

“We’ll hold that in reserve as a last resort.”  Tim glanced at his watch, “Come on, it’s time for dinner.”

Damian was on the phone when Tim stuck his head in the bedroom door and reminded him of the upcoming meal.  Damian waved his brother off and got back to a strange conversation.

“Sorry about that.  What’s going on, Barbara?”

Dick’s girlfriend said, “I just wanted to know if you’ve been able to talk to Dick lately.”

“I tried,” Damian grumbled, “but the problem is that he isn’t talking back.  Why do you ask?”

Barbara sighed, “He’s canceled two dates with me this week.  I just wanted to know if he’s mad at me.”

Damian shook his head, “I was wondering if he was mad at me, too.  There’s something wrong, and I don’t know what it is.  Why do you think he’s mad at you?”

Barbara sounded sad over the line, “He just changed so fast.  I thought we were fine, now I can barely get two words out of him.  I just want to know if I did something wrong.”

Damian understood the feeling too well, “Oh, good.”

“Good?  Are you upset with me, too?”

_That came out wrong,_ Damian thought.  “No, not at all.  I thought I was the only one feeling that way.  If Dick is shutting you out, too, then it’s not something either of us did.”

Barbara seemed to accept the explanation, “Or, it’s something both of us did.  I wish he would just talk to us.  How are we supposed to help him if he doesn’t talk to us?”

The conversation fell silent for a minute.  Then, Damian said softly, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Well, if you hear anything, let me know.  Please?”

Damian was surprised by the request, “Only if you do the same, if you hear something.”

“Will do, Damian.  Thanks.”

The call ended, and Damian was more confused than ever.  With building nerves, Damian walked over and knocked twice on Dick’s bedroom door.  Softly, from inside the room, Damian heard, “Just a minute.”

Almost exactly a minute later, Dick cracked his door open, just enough to reveal half of his face to his brother.  “Hi, Damian.”

Damian hated the depressed tone coming from the eternally optimistic man.  “I come with several messages.  Barbara said she is concerned about you, and wants to know why you keep cancelling dates.”

Dick’s eyes widened a bit, “Is she here?”

Damian shook his head, “No, she called my cell phone; itself a testament that something serious is going on.”

Dick sighed, “I’ll call her later.  What else?”

Damian tried his best to hide his scowl, “You need to take me to school tomorrow, and pick me up.”

Dick looked at his brother strangely, “You’re taking online classes.”

“I’m also being forced to take a lab class that has to be done on campus.  I’ve been going every Friday morning since the semester started.”

It didn’t sound like a lie to Dick, and it actually wasn’t.  The new need for a ride might have been a bit exaggerated, though.  “Okay.  What time is your class?”

“Ten.”

Dick shook his head, “I have a meeting at eight.  Alfred will have to take you.”

“You can take me early,” Damian persisted, “I need to find a book for my history class.  I can go to the library early, before class.”

“Okay.  Be ready to go by seven.  Can Alfred pick you up?  I’ve got a pretty full day tomorrow.”

Damian shook his head, “My class gets out at eleven-thirty.  You have a break in your schedule between eleven and one; I checked with your assistant.  That is plenty of time to pick me up, get lunch, and get back to work before your one o’clock meeting.”

Dick shook his head again, “I won’t have time to bring you home in all of that.”

Damian was leaning on one foot, ready to stick his other foot in the small open gap if Dick tried to close the door.  “I didn’t say bring me home.  I said go back to work.  I’ll go with you and do my homework.  You won’t even know I’m there.  I can even go sit in Father’s office, if having me there will, you know, bother you.”

Dick gave another sigh, knowing what Damian was hinting at, and not liking the sad tone that had entered Damian’s voice over that last statement.  “We’ll see how my meetings go, but we can work with that.  Anything else?”

Damian nodded, “Yes.  It’s seven-fifteen, we’re late for dinner.”

Dick tried to control his reaction.  He wanted to be left alone, but his brother was doing everything he could to not allow that to be an option right now.  “Okay.  No use in Alfred being mad at both of us.  Go on, I’ll see you down there.”

Damian gave Dick a skeptical look, and Dick cracked the smallest of smiles.  “Okay, okay.  I’m coming.”

Damian took a step back as Dick exited his bedroom, then slipped between Dick and the bedroom door and motioned for Dick to walk.

The pair reached the top of the stairs, and Dick glanced down at his brother.  Damian had been watching Dick the whole time they had been walking, and made his move when Dick met his eyes.  Damian hugged Dick tightly, surprising the taller man.

“Damian…”

“I’m sorry if I upset you.  Whatever I did, I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

Dick wrapped his arms around Damian’s shoulders compassionately.  “Damian, brother, you didn’t do anything.  My mood isn’t your fault.  It has nothing to do with you, or with anyone in this house.  I just need some time on my own, to figure things out.”

Damian looked up, still hugging Dick, “When I was fighting with Father last year, you didn’t let me get away with an explanation like that.”

Dick’s smile grew, just a bit, “I promise you, this will all blow over by next week.  It’s just something I’ve got to handle on my own.”

“We want to help you, all of us do.  Let us help.”

Dick ruffled Damian’s hair, recently cut shorter than it has been in years, “I know you do.  Unfortunately, there really isn’t anything you can do.  It’s just going to take time.  And, that’s not how complaints work in this family.  Requests for assistance go up, not down.  It’s not your job to carry my burdens.”

Damian grumbled, “You didn’t let me get away with that one, either.”

“It’s just going to take time, and by the look of the butler, we’ve used all the time we have for now.”

Damian looked down to see Alfred standing at the bottom of the stairs.  While he didn’t look angry, he also didn’t look happy.  He definitely had a look of understanding on his face as the oldest and youngest passed on their way to the dining room, though.

Dick stopped just before entering the dining room and looked in Damian’s eyes.  “I know you don’t understand what’s going on with me right now, and I’m sorry, but thanks for trying.  It really did help.”

Damian looked up hopefully, “It did?”

Dick patted Damian’s shoulder, directing him into the dining room, “It did.”

_Saturday…_

The weekend dawned much brighter than the preceding week had.  The rain that had been falling since Tuesday cleared out overnight, and the sun was doing its best to dry out the grounds around the manor.

Taking advantage of the drier weather, the family scattered to take care of personal errands.  Following a hurried breakfast, Alfred left to do the weekly grocery shopping.  Jason and Tim, tired of the quiet tension in the house, used the clear weather to get out of the house.  Jason went for a long ride around the city on his motorcycle.  Tim went to the movies with some friends.  No one had seen Dick since he and Damian returned from work Friday evening.  When questioned, Damian told his middle brothers that Dick barely said a word to him in their forced day together.  The whole day had been a fabrication by Damian, to get Dick talking again.  It hadn’t worked, but it had at least allowed Damian to keep an eye on his older brother.

Left alone, and trying to avoid frustration, Damian decided to attend to the welfare of another family member.

Titus perked up incredibly when he saw Damian dig out the dog’s favorite tennis ball.  He was nudging Damian’s hand as the teen tied his shoes.  The dog was all but prancing around Damian as he pulled a sweatshirt over his head.  Titus stayed no more than six inches away from Damian’s side all the way down the stairs and out the back door.

Damian took a deep breath and looked at the glistening lawns.  He was nearly knocked over sideways as Titus leaned into Damian’s leg.

Smiling, Damian asked, “Ready, boy?”

Titus gave a booming bark and hopped at the tennis ball in Damian’s hand.

“Okay, sit!”

The Great Dane sat impatiently.  Damian rocked back and launched the ball as far as he could.  Titus still sat, watching his boy, shifting impatiently.

Damian smiled at the dog, “Good boy.  Go get it!”

Taking great, leaping bounds, Titus ran after the ball, his tongue hanging out of his mouth as he ran.  Quickly, he returned, sat, and dropped the ball at Damian’s feet.

Damian reached down, picking up the ball with one hand while scratching behind the dog’s ears with his other.  “You’ve got a lot of energy today, boy.  Sorry we had to keep you in during the rain.  Go get it!”

The ball flew again, Titus keeping pace as best he could.  When Titus brought the ball back and dropped it at Damian’s feet, Damian had an introspective look on his face.  “Come on, Titus.  There’s something we have to do.”

Damian threw the ball again, but instead of waiting for Titus to bring it back, he walked after the dog.  He kept throwing the ball, until they were in sight of a fenced-off section of the grounds, half a mile from the manor.  The view of the house was obstructed by a stand of trees, the southern edge of the North Woods.  That was exactly how Bruce wanted it.

In days long past, this was the area of the Wayne Family stables.  Today, it wasn’t thoroughbred horses that were kept here, but a rescued cow.  Damian had Bruce enclose a larger area than the old stables, to allow for larger grazing land for the saved beef.  At first, Bruce balked at the idea of keeping livestock on Manor grounds.  Then, Dick explained the connection the boy and bull had formed in their short acquaintance.  Seeing that had actually been Bruce’s impetus to buy Titus.

Damian leaned on the fence surrounding the pasture land and watched Batcow chew on a stalk of grass.  The bovine hadn’t noticed the boy’s presence yet, and Damian found he was content just watching.

After several minutes, Titus barked, hoping to get Damian to throw the ball again.  The noise seemed to startle the cow.  Damian threw the ball as Batcow lumbered over.

“Hello, Batcow.  Sorry it’s been so long since I’ve come to see you.”

Moo.

Damian reached out and patted just above Batcow’s nose.  “You doing okay out here?”

The cow snorted and looked around.  Damian smiled, “I get it.  You’re looking for Jon, aren’t you?  Well, he’s not here this time.”

Batcow snorted again, more insistently this time, if Damian were to anthropomorphize a cow’s snort.  “Okay, next time Jon comes over, I’ll make sure we come out to visit.  The farm boy will enjoy that, too.”

Damian threw the ball again before looking Batcow over, “You getting enough to eat?  You look healthy.  Your pasture doesn’t look like it’s running out of grass anytime soon.”

Moo.

Damian nodded, “Alright, Cow.  I just wanted to make sure you were okay.  I’ll come back soon.”

Moo.

Damian looked into the large, brown eyes and said, “Moo.”  Then, his eyes widened.  _Oh my god, did I just moo at the damn cow?  What’s wrong with me?  I don’t bark at the dog, why did I moo at the cow?_

Damian was shaking his head as his phone rang in his pocket.  He turned away from the enclosure as he answered, “Hello?”

“Good morning, Damian.”

The teen’s eyes widened, “Father!”

“How’s it going, kiddo?”

Damian’s mood, which had risen dramatically at hearing Bruce’s voice, fell just as dramatically as he thought about the truthful answer.  “I don’t know.  It’s been strange around the house since you left.”

“Strange how,” Bruce asked inquisitively.

Damian sighed, “It’s Dick.  He’s been acting really weird.  First, I thought he just missed you, but it has gone on far too long for that.”

“What’s he doing,” Bruce asked.

“He’s been really depressed.  He’s not talking to anyone.  He disappears for hours at a time.  I forced him to talk to me yesterday and Thursday, but even then, he didn’t open up.  It’s not like him.”

Bruce matched Damian’s sigh, “You know what today is, don’t you?”  When Damian didn’t answer, Bruce continued, “It’s the anniversary of his parent’s death.”

Damian’s eyes widened in shock, “How could I forget that?”

“You knew,” Bruce asked, surprised.

“Of course, I just forgot the date.  No wonder he’s been depressed.  Still, though, he’s never acted like this before; not even on the anniversary.”

Bruce was kicking himself, “I promised him I would be home for the anniversary this year.”

“I wish you were here too, Father,” Damian said ruefully, “You’d know how to get through to him.”

Bruce gave a small smile, “You know how to get through to him, son.”

“I already tried that,” Damian grumbled, frustrated, “It didn’t work.”

“You’ll figure something out, Damian.  You always do.  Say, where is everyone?  I tried calling the house and no one answered.”

Damian took a deep breath, “I don’t really know.  Everyone was going stir-crazy; I guess they finally had to leave.”

Bruce sounded confused, “What do you mean?”

“It’s been raining since Tuesday.  The rain finally cleared out overnight.  Alfred went to the grocery store.  Tim and Jason didn’t tell me where they were going.  I haven’t seen Dick since we got home from work last night.”

“So, you’re home alone?”

Damian shrugged, “As far as I know.  I’m outside, getting Titus some exercise.  We’ve been outside for an hour or so, so I don’t know if anyone is home yet.  When are you coming home?”

“Monday,” Bruce said, with some sadness in his voice, “Are you going to be able to hold down the fort until then?”

“Don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

Bruce chuckled, “Not really.  Thanks for letting me know what’s going on.  I’ll see if I can talk to Dick.  I wish I could be there for all of you today, but I can’t.  Take care, okay son?”

Damian took a deep breath, “I’ll try.  I miss you, Father.”

Bruce gave a warm smile, and even though it wasn’t seen, it was felt, “Miss you too, kiddo.”

Damian hung up his phone with a rough sigh.  _Well, that explains some of Dick’s mood.  I can’t believe I forgot such an important date for Dick.  I guess Tim was right; I really didn’t do anything.  The question is, is there anything I can actually do to help?_

Damian looked at Titus, who was sitting next to Damian, with his head cocked up at his boy.  “I don’t suppose you have any ideas?”

Titus bent down and nudged the tennis ball closer to Damian’s foot.  Damian gave a smirk, “Okay, but I don’t know if Dick will fetch as easily as you do.”

Damian picked up the ball, and Titus licked his hand on the way by.  A thought, of a way to clear his head, occurred to Damian.  “Stay, boy,” Damian said, holding on to Titus’ collar as he threw the ball again.  “Ready, boy?”

Titus barked.

“Let’s go!”

Damian let go of Titus’ collar, and the dog sped away.  This time, Damian followed, running at a dead sprint in an attempt to keep up with the Great Dane.

Five more throws, followed by matching boy and dog sprints, brought them back within sight of the manor again.  Damian was going to give the ball another throw when he saw something unexpected.  Dick was walking out of the back door of the manor.  Damian and Titus were far enough away that they weren’t seen.  Dick wasn’t looking for anyone as he headed away from the house, towards the south woods.

_Strange.  Where is he going?  He’s dressed a little too nice for a walk in the woods.  Should I follow him?  Will he get mad at me if I follow him?  I did tell Father that I would try to help.  It’s his parent’s day, though.  If there is one thing that Dick hasn’t shared, at least with me, it’s his parents.  I need to know, even if it’s only to find out where he’s going._

His mind made up, Damian headed stealthily for the woods.  Unfortunately, Damian was still holding the tennis ball, and Titus followed his toy.  Damian knew better than to throw it; Titus would just pick it up and bring it back.

The dog nudged the boy’s hand.  Damian stopped and knelt in front of the dog.  “Titus,” he whispered, “Playtime is over.  We need to be quiet and stealthy now, if we’re going to sneak up on Dick without being noticed.  Here, hold the ball.  Maybe it will keep you quiet.”

Damian, admittedly, had explored very little of the grounds surrounding his home.  His request to Santa Bats for some sort of go-kart or ATV had been denied, even though his brothers had all asked for the same thing, in hopes of convincing Bruce that it could be a fun thing to have.  Damian hadn’t been disappointed; he knew it had been a long shot request, and getting it would mean Bruce would be officially lifting the ban on Damian driving before he turned sixteen.  Before a go-kart had been a possibility, Damian just hadn’t been interested in seeing what lay beyond the house and the areas he could see from his bedroom window.

All this meant that Damian would have been excessively lost, had there not been a specifically cleared path through the woods.  _There is obviously something out here, for there to be a path.  This path isn’t new, either.  It looks like this way has been specifically cleared, many decades ago._

Damian was easily able to follow Dick’s footprints in the moist soil, but he had to go slow to keep his presence hidden.  Damian hadn’t actually seen Dick since his older brother started down this path.  He wouldn’t put it past Dick to stop on the path and jump out at Damian, once he was close enough.

That didn’t happen.  Instead, when Damian expected the woods to get darker as they proceeded deeper along the path, it actually grew lighter.  At the edge of an unexpected clearing, Damian stopped, dumbfounded at what lay before him.

_What the hell is this,_ Damian thought.  _Seriously, what is this?  Is this…a cemetery?  Why do we have a cemetery?  Why was I not told about this?  They don’t tell me a lot, but I think I need to know about something like this.  There are…a lot of markers here.  This isn’t something that was put in recently.  Are these…are these my ancestors?_

Damian’s eyes settled on Dick, who was sitting in front of a light colored stone.  _If these are my ancestors, does that mean that those are Dick’s ancestors?  Did Father have Dick’s parents buried here?  Are Jason’s and Tim’s parents around here, somewhere?  Okay, I found him, and I know what’s going on.  The question now is, what do I do about it?  I can’t confront him here.  I’m an ass, but I’m not that much of an ass.  I can’t let him lock himself back in his room, though.  I’ll wait for him on the back patio; he has to come back in sometime.  I can wait him out._

Damian took a soft step backwards, then another, before whispering, “Let’s go, Titus.”

Damian turned silently and took another step back up the path before stopping suddenly.  Instead of leaving with Damian, Titus walked into the family cemetery.  Damian watched in horror as the Great Dane trotted up to Dick, dropped the ball in front of his knees, and laid down with his head in Dick’s lap.

Dick gave a half-laugh as he stroked the dog’s back.  “I didn’t think anyone else was home.  I thought you went to the store with Alfred.”

Damian still stood at the edge of the clearing as he said softly, “No.  He left early.  We’ll…we’ll just leave you.  Sorry.  Sorry for bothering you.  Come, Titus.”

The dog didn’t move.  Dick said, “You could come here, you know.  This is more your family than it is mine.  I think I’d like some company right now.”

Damian walked hesitantly into the clearing.  He could read the names clearly on the marker, but couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Is that them?  Your…your parents?”

Dick nodded, his eyes never leaving the marker, “That’s them.  Come and say hello.  I’ve told them all about you.”

Damian stopped, concern flooding his tone, “You talk to your dead parents?”

Dick finally turned and smirked up at his brother, “They don’t answer.  You don’t need to be worried about my sanity.  It just helps me to process everything.”

Dick held out a hand to his brother.  Damian took it and was pulled down, to sit at Dick’s side.  They were silent for several minutes before Dick wrapped an arm around Damian’s shoulder and pulled him tight into his side.

“Ask your questions, Damian,” Dick said softly, “I know you have them.”

Damian hesitated for a second, “Are you sure?  Isn’t that disrespectful, or something?”

Dick smiled, “I think, for what’s going through your mind, this is very appropriate.”

Damian took a deep breath, “You said talking to them helps you process.  It’s been twenty-three years; what do you have left to process?  I mean, I know your sappy mind will never get over it, but…your reaction to this year has been a bit…more…than previous years.”

Dick nodded, “So, you know that today is their anniversary?”

“Yes.  We’ve gone over this in years past.  Father had to remind me of the date.  I was so concerned for how you’ve been acting that I forgot the day was coming up.”

Damian’s eyes widened at the admission, but he made no effort to retract his statement.

“Thanks, little brother, and yes, I’ve had a lifetime to process everything.  That’s the problem.”

Damian cocked his head, lifting it off of Dick’s shoulder, “What do you mean?”

Dick sniffled, “I realized that I’m the same age my dad was when he was killed.  At my birthday next month, I’ll officially be older than my dad.  It’s…uncharted territory for me.  I don’t know what to make of it.  It’s really been confusing for me.  I’m sorry this has been throwing everything off…”

Dick trailed off as Damian turned and hugged him.  The elder held on to his younger brother; first to just return the hug, then to steady himself, and finally because he needed it.  He buried his face in Damian’s shoulder, thinking how much it felt like Bruce’s at that moment, and let his pain boil over.

“Let it out, Dick,” Damian whispered, “You’re too happy a person to be this sad.  You’re too good of a person to end up like me.”

It took a good fifteen minutes for Dick to cry himself out.  When he was done, he didn’t let go of Damian when he said, “Thanks, brother.  I needed that.  What did you mean, don’t end up like you?”

_I hoped he didn’t hear that_.  Damian sighed, “Don’t bottle up your emotions.  Don’t lock yourself away and stew in your own situation.  You need to be out among people, not hiding in your room.  You were the one to teach me that.”

Dick took a deep breath, “I guess we all need reminders sometimes.  I don’t know why this has hit me so hard this year, but it has.”

Damian gave a soft smile, which Dick knew the teen was trying to hide from him.  “You give us enough reminders; we can give you some, every now and then.”

Dick leaned back and looked Damian in the eye, “Well, Damian, I think you accomplished your goal here.  I’m not nearly as depressed as I was.  I’m actually starting to feel a whole lot better about things.  I lost a lot, but I gained a lot, too.  I don’t think they would be upset to see where I ended up.”

Damian met the gaze, “So, you’re done locking yourself in your room?”

“For this year,” Dick said with a wink.

The brothers stood, and Damian looked down at the marker again.  “Um…are they…are your parents really buried here, or did Father just have a marker erected?”

Dick looked down at the marker, “No, Bruce had them moved here.  Actually, he did that before we even knew if he would be able to keep me.  I mean, retain custody of me.  We had some nervous times in those first few years, but it all worked out.”

Damian paled slightly.  He couldn’t imagine life without his goofy older brother, and he didn’t want to.  “Is that legal?  I mean, it was done, so it obviously is legal, but is it…common…to move people once they’re buried?”

Dick gave a small smile, “It’s not that common, but it isn’t the strangest request in the world.  It was done professionally, if that is what you want to know.  It’s not like Bruce and Alfred dug them up in the middle of the night and put them in the back of Alfred’s Mercedes.”

Damian rolled his eyes, “Well, I didn’t think _that_ happened.  Are Jason’s and Tim’s parents here, too?”

Dick looked around, “I don’t think so.  Jason didn’t have a good relationship with his parents, and if I remember correctly, Tim didn’t want his parents moved from their resting place.  I think his parents were cremated, actually.  I’m surprised you would ask that.  I just assumed you would know all of who’s here by now.”

Damian shook his head, looking around the graveyard.  He said in a small voice, “No one told me this was out here.  I didn’t know where you were going when I followed you.”

Dick looked seriously at the teen for several minutes before placing his hands on Damian’s shoulders.  “If that’s the case, then let me introduce you to someone.”

Not waiting for an answer, Dick turned Damian and walked him a short distance away, towards the path.  Stopping in front of an elegant headstone, Dick leaned down and said softly in Damian’s ear, “Damian Wayne, this is the marker of Thomas and Martha Wayne.  These are your grandparents.”

The pair was silent for several minutes as Damian memorized every facet of the stone.  Damian was surprised at the feeling of loss that came over him as he stood staring at his grandparent’s grave for the first time.  He said softly, “Why is it so close to the path?  I would have thought it would be farther in.”

Dick patted Damian’s shoulder, “I asked Alfred that once.  He told me that Bruce always hated coming here, even when his parents were alive.  Alfred had them laid to rest here in the hopes that your father would consent to coming out every now and then, knowing he only had to go to the edge of the field to see them.  I guess it worked, but Bruce adopted their bedroom as his memorial spot.”

Damian nodded, his eyes not leaving the marker, “I know.  He goes there on their wedding anniversary.”

Dick smirked at Damian, “You were able to figure that one out, but you didn’t know about the family cemetery?”

Damian shrugged, finally looking up, “I guess I’m like Father, I prefer to stay in the house.  Can we go?  I must have inherited Father’s dislike for graveyards.”

Dick hesitated, and Damian’s eyes widened in shock and remorse, “I’m sorry.  We don’t have to leave until you’re ready.  We’re here for you, not me.”

Dick looked back at his parent’s marker for a minute, feeling better than he had for a couple weeks.  He walked back to the headstone, knelt down, and placed his hand between his parent’s names on the memorial.  It struck him for the first time how smooth and worn this spot of the stone was.  He had been rubbing the spot between his parent’s names for twenty-three years, trying to feel like he was standing between them again.  For the first time, he felt like he had made it.

Dick stood again and turned to find Damian still standing at Thomas and Martha’s marker, his hand lightly resting on the top as he watched Dick.  _I wonder if Damian is thinking about feeling some sort of connection to his past in that action.  I wonder if he even realizes he’s doing that._

Dick walked back over to his brother and said, “Let’s go.”

Damian looked up at Dick, “Are you sure?  I don’t want to take you away from your depression, if you’re not done with it.”

Dick snickered, “I’m sure.  I really just needed to talk it out.  Thanks for caring enough to come for me.”

Damian blushed a bit, “You do it for me all the time.  You deserve to be happy.”

They left the cemetery and entered the shady path, Titus trotting at their side.  Dick said casually, “You know, one of the things I was thinking before you showed up at the cemetery was what my parents would have wanted.  The one thought I kept coming back to was that, overall, they wanted me to be happy.  Thanks for reminding me that a little happiness can banish even the biggest sadness.”  Dick sighed, “I guess I’ve got a lot to explain to everyone.”

Damian shook his head, “You don’t owe us anything, but stop canceling dates with Barbara.  If she called me, she must have called everyone else first.”

Dick cocked his head, “I don’t know.  She seems to think you, out of everyone, are going to be the hardest to win over after our last break-up.”

Damian’s eyes widened, “She still thinks that?  I thought I made it very clear that I approved of you two last year, and again on the double date a couple months ago.”

“So did I,” Dick said as they left the woods behind, “By the way, Barbara was very impressed with the second anniversary you put together for Robin.”

Damian smiled, remembering the night, “It’s a night I’ll never forget.”

Dick looked at Damian with a new appreciation, and a crafty smirk, “Really?  Under Bruce’s roof?  He obviously doesn’t know.”

“He knows,” Damian said smugly, “Didn’t you find it odd that Father had a sudden urge to get everyone else on patrol so soon after dinner?”

Dick shook his head, “I wondered why he wasn’t as upset as he normally is over a stakeout that bore no results.”

“Father and I have come to an understanding.  It makes living here much better when we communicate.”

Dick threw an arm around his brother, “It’s about time you two came to a harmonious arrangement.”

Damian looked up, “So, Barbara?”

“I’ll call her in a bit, and see if she’s free for dinner.”

Damian nodded, “Good.  Father will be calling you soon too…”  Damian trailed off as Dick’s phone started to ring in his pocket.  “That’s probably him.”

Dick pulled the device from his pocket and answered it, “It is.  Hi, Bruce.”

Damian walked away with a contented sigh, and entered the kitchen.  Alfred was waiting for him.

“I believe congratulations are in order, Master Damian.  That is the first time Master Dick has smiled in a week.”

Damian looked out of the kitchen window to where Dick was talking with Bruce, “He just needed to talk.  Dick is too social to try to lock himself away.”

Alfred gave a warm smile, “I think there is more to it than that.”

Damian shrugged, “He figured himself out; I was just a shoulder to cry on.”

“Perhaps the fact that you were willing to do that for him meant more to him than you know.”

Damian thought back on their time in the cemetery, then looked at the smile on Dick’s face as he headed for the back door.

“Perhaps, Alfred.  Perhaps.”

 

**A/N: I don’t really have anything pithy or insightful to say about this one.  This is just something I thought of.  The title came to me first, which is unusual for my stories.  Usually it takes me until almost the end of the outline, if not the end of the story, to come up with a title.**

**I’d like to hear what people think of my works.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


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